


slow it down (for me)

by starkheir



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 6th year, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, F/F, Luna Lovegood & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Luna Lovegood is an angel, Pansexual Luna Lovegood, Twitter made me do it, druna bff, narcissa malfoy being the best mom ever, pansy parkinson is a bamf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkheir/pseuds/starkheir
Summary: Luna Lovegood has many safe retreats in every nook and corner of Hogwarts' halls, more attentive then most when it comes to the ancient castle. No one ever finds her.No one, until one day, Luna opens the right door to the wrong bathroom.She just doesn’t understand why no one helps the sad boy with the pretty grey eyes and the heavy soul.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood & Draco Malfoy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 65
Collections: Luna And Draco Completed





	slow it down (for me)

**Author's Note:**

> I had this planned for so so so long? At least three months hsbdjdjd it’s embarrassing that I only just finished this chapter... well, I hope you like it and suffer just enough while reading this <3

He was shaking, his breath coming out in pathetic wheezes that echoed through the damp room. His fingers had become stiff and cold from the clawing grasp he had on the mouldered sink, feelings long lost. The jagged edge of white, cold, porcelain bored into the sensitive skin of his palms and fingers. The pain was weirdly grounding, Draco found. 

_I’m still here._

With a rattling breath, he raised a shaking hand to run it through the escaped strands of platinum blonde hair, now plastered damp and shapeless to his forehead. Breathing suddenly became impossibly hard — air ... _he needed air now —_

Turning his back to the sink, Draco let his head fall back, resting it against the dirty mirror behind him. The angle was more than uncomfortable, but Draco couldn’t bring himself to care. Chest rattling and shaking of broken sobs and flat breaths, one of his own hands subconsciously clawed at the skin over his heart, it needed out _... out — out!_

Everything was too much, too tight, too warm, _too much_. Draco desperately pressed his head to the cold, unforgiving surface of the mirror behind him.  
His pale throat was now exposed to the otherwise empty room, a stance Draco would never have allowed himself, were he with company. Not anymore. 

Silent tears slid down his cheeks, blazing hot on his unusually cold skin. Running down to his lips and coming to a sudden stop at his jaw, the fallen droplets painted a pattern of shame and weakness on his dress shirt. 

A faint thought in the back of his head reminded Draco that he would have to remember to cast a Drying Charm on himself before he left later. The thought of anybody seeing him like this brought a new wave of disgust. 

Crabbe and Goyle probably wouldn’t even notice that anything was off, too caught up with jinxing little first and second year Gryffindors in the hallways. Pansy however...Pansy would probably chastise him for not immediately coming to her. Then she would probably drag Draco up to her dorm and force physical contact upon him until he was able to feel annoyed enough again to complain about it. He would never admit it out loud to _anyone_ , but Pansy’s tight hugs and tender touches on his face, back and hair comforted him more than almost anything else could. Against his will, Draco‘s thoughts got caught up on an image of Pansy‘s smiling face, all rosy cheeks from the cold and dark eyes shining with mirth. Just seconds later, she had fired a unnormally large snowball right at his face. Last year’s Christmas now seemed like an entirely different world. 

His heart gave a painful tug. 

Another distant memory of the two of them now burned clear in his mind. Her, holding him and letting him cry on her expensive, Parisian robes, after his father had been taken to Azkaban. They had not spoken. It was worse enough for Draco to actually approach someone with his grief and to search comfort. 

He remembered her featherlight touch on his shoulders, a complete contrast to the way his fingers practically clawed at her small form, a desperate try to ground himself. Her lips pressing soft kisses to his head, enduring his fits. She truly was his best friend, the only person he usually confided about his sorrows. But telling Pansy about _anything_ would not only immensely endanger her, but also inevitably lead to another one of his ... _breakdowns_ And that would simply not do. Enough of his loved ones were already in situations so dangerous that Draco spent every waking minute worrying over. Not Pansy as well. He would remember her with that smile, and he would do until he died. 

_Which Might perhaps happen rather sooner than later,_ the voice reminded him again. 

Draco clenched his jaw and swallowed. He felt nauseous. He forced his thoughts away from Pansy. 

Blaise was much the same as her, perhaps a bit more hesitant with offering physical comfort. He was more of a talker, always approaching problems with a levelheaded calm that Draco would never be able to obtain for such a long time. 

_Obviously_ , his mind supplied. _Or else you wouldn’t be hiding in this bathroom like a first year, having a fucking breakdown._

Draco ran a clammy hand over his face, trying to regain even the tiniest part of his usual unbothered composure. _Mother taught you better than this._

The fleeting thought of his mother made Dracos heart ache once more. His hand slipped from its clawing grasp on the sink and he slid to the floor, entirely uncaring about the multiple, ominous wet spots on the tiles around him. 

He knew, he knew, she had seen the tear stains on the weekly letters he sent her, the stains of weakness he had so desperately tried to remove - but failed to do so to a satisfying degree. He just wanted to go back home. No, not to this home right now; filled to the brim with death eaters, dark magic and distrust. His _real_ home. 

Draco had spent many sleepless nights just desperately wishing to go back to when he was a child. When he now closed his eyes, he could still see his father playing with him in the snow, teaching draco how to fly and petting the peacocks together. The lines around his eyes were gone. He could see his mother, looking decades younger and happier, reading him a story in their sitting room. Stroking his hair and gently humming, while he slept on her lap. Oh, how he wished to feel her delicate arms around him just now, tracing soft patterns into the skin of his neck while she held him and softly murmured words of encouragement in French, as she had done when he was younger. 

_Gods, the things he’d do -_

The screeching sound of the old, wooden, entrance door to the bathroom harshly ripped Draco from his thoughts. He scrambled to his feet, one hand immediately flying to his wand, while the other tried to erase the most obvious signs of tears on his cheeks. 

„Oh, hello. I didn’t know it was occupied.“, an airy voice said, light and entirely unbothered. Dressed in a baby blue blazer with pink accents, which seemed way too large for her delicate frame, Luna fucking Lovegood had entered the bathroom. 

The tiny Ravenclaw was a year under him, and Draco only knew that because he distinctively remembered his father telling him about the bat shit crazy Xenophilius Lovegood. 

„What the fuck are you doing here.“, Draco hissed, voice low and hoarse. He lowered his wand, but didn’t put it away yet. 

Lovegood smiled slightly, seemingly not at all affected by his tone. „The Nargles. Sometimes it’s difficult to think when they get excited.“ 

Ah, right, perfect. Apparently, that craziness had been passed onto the Lovegood spawn. 

„Fuck off, Looney.“, he growled. 

„You have been crying,“ Luna observed, eyes innocently widened. „Is it because of the Blibbering Humdingers? They’re all around your head.“ 

Draco‘s frowned, shoulders tensing. „The what - whatever. Go and do your freaky shit somewhere else.“ 

He hated that his voice sounded so pathetic. Hated it. 

Lovegood sauntered through the room, coming slowly in Draco’s direction. He gripped his wand tighter, though still keeping it at his side, and took half a step back, feeling the cold edge of the sink pressing into his hipbone. 

The Ravenclaw intruder dropped her bag to the floor and heaved herself up to sit cross legged on one of the cleaner looking sinks. ”I can’t go back outside yet. The Slytherins are still there.“, Lovegood said, her voice going even softer as she continued, ”Although I do wonder how they can even walk straight, with all those Nargles flying around their head.“ 

”What - Slytherins?“

„Some fifth years. They didn’t like me asking Professor Sinistra about the Bellona conspiracy very much.“ 

Draco’s eyes narrowed. Before he could stop himself, the question had already been asked.”Who? And what are they doing?“ 

_Why are you even asking? It’s not like you care._ , the voice in the back of his mind sneered. 

”Oh, i don’t know their names.“, she shrugged. ”And not much. Sometimes shoving and stealing my things, but it’s okey. My mom always said that the things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end.“ 

Lovegood smiled slightly. „If not always in the way we expect.“

Draco opened his mouth, but found he had no idea what to answer to that. He settled on frowning again. Of course he had witnessed Lovegood being teased by fellow students before, but something about the indifference in the tiny blondes voice made Draco angry. 

„It’s okay, don’t worry.“

„It’s no-“, Draco cut himself off. Luna smiled again. 

_You don’t care._

He scoffed. Turning away from her, Draco waved his wand once, effectively drying his face and dress shirt. Suddenly, the overwhelming, all-encompassing urge to leave the room as fast as possible overcame him. 

_Alone, please._ Draco thought. _I need to be alone—_

He swiftly shouldered his bag and threw his robes over his arms, giving himself a short one over in the dirty mirror. _A mess._

Coughing once, Draco hoped that the oh so telling rawness had disappeared from his voice, lest Pansy wouldn’t immediately be able to tell what he had been doing for the past hour. 

„Goodbye, Draco.“, Luna airily called after him. 

Draco did not look at her again as he brushed past her, kicked the door open and hurried down the corridor. _Back to work._


End file.
